


Light Up

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Drabble, F/M, M/M, Mentions of Character Death, Sad, just sadness, my poor little cinnamon roll you are too good for this world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2016-10-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 17:50:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8219768
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: He sleeps next to her and pretends that everything is all right. Zack/Cloud, Cloud/Tifa





	

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally written on March 15th, 2009. It was inspired by konneh's video to Snow Patrol's "Run." You can find the video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pJxOTK6qP3s

He sleeps next to her and pretends that everything is all right.

He keeps his hand on her slightly bulging belly; their creation occasionally kicks against his hand just to remind him that it's there. There's a ring that glints off his finger, a dull gold that just doesn't look right on his hand. It's uncomfortably tight sometimes but he never says anything. Sometimes she looks like she understands that his hand feels like lead, that his head feels like fluff, but her ring just shines bright like a summer sun. Who could break something so fragile?

He closes his eyes and sees the desert sands and their feet. They're running so fast that he can only make out the glint of  **his**  sword and the color black. It is a warm black, comforting black. There are always fingers, and even with his eyes closed he knows there is someone holding him, speaking to him. There are words, but he doesn't understand them. It doesn't matter, though-they're together and they're running, so free and unbound the muffled sounds are just another caress.  **His**  words didn't have to have relevance.

He knows that those times are gone, that he's married and that soon, the dainty little thing kicking inside her swollen stomach would come into their world. There was no more running, no more hands, no freedom. He accepts it. What other option does he have? She wants him to move on, to pick up their shattered lives and step forward. No option of tears, no option of waiting. No pause button-only play.

He wants  **him**  to be able to understand that. He loves her, but not like that-not like what they have. It's a waltz of fallacies, dreams and hopes, but she doesn't try and stop their dancing.

He picks out the name, Zack, because he thinks that  **he**  would like it. She doesn't say anything about the choice, because he sleeps next to her and pretends that everything is all right.

It isn't, but he tries.


End file.
